Marcus stood and bowed slightly. “As you wish, Lady Aurora. We meant no insult.”
Aurora nodded at him and flashed Margaret a warning glance. “Then you shall be our guests of honor at the evening meal on the morrow and we shall begin anew.”
Pride welled in Damien’s chest. She handled herself very well. But as Aurora turned to the door, he saw disdain twist Margaret’s lips and knew the battle had only begun.
Chapter Six
Damien collected Aurora to him, holding her against his heart. She was breathing deeply, sated by their lovemaking. He loved to just hold her and run his fingers along her arm, feeling her soft skin.
As the beat of her heart slowed to a more normal pace, she picked her head up and rested her chin against his chest to gaze into his eyes. Warmth, admiration and happiness shone from her large blue eyes.
He ran his hands through her hair and a lock fell forward. He picked it up. It was much shorter than the others. He inspected it curiously and frowned. “What happened to this curl?”
Aurora glanced at it and shrugged. “Is the rest of my hair not good enough?”
Damien dropped the lock and bent to kiss her forehead. “Of course it is.”
“Damien, I was thinking –”
He grinned at her. He loved her with all his heart. She was amazing. Beautiful, intelligent…
“Your father…”
Stubborn. Persistent. He took a deep breath, dropping his hands to her shoulders. “Why must you concern yourself with him?”
“He’s an old man. And you put him in the dungeon. I was thinking that maybe you should allow him to be held in one of the guest chambers.”
Damien stared at her in disbelief. “He is in the dungeon because that’s where he belongs. I don’t want him comfortable. I want him miserable.”
Aurora sat up, straddling his legs. She put a hand on his chest as if holding him down. “Miserable? He’s your father!”
Damien sighed in exasperation. He put his hands behind his head and gazed at the window. “He lost that title when he sold Gawyn and I to the slavers.”
“Maybe he made a mistake.”
“Aurora,” he warned in a growl.
“And even if you take the title from him, he is an old man. Locking him in the dungeon is just… just…”
“What?” he demanded, boosting himself onto his elbows.
“Cruel.”
Damien yanked his legs from beneath her and swung them out of the bed.
She tumbled into the covers. “Yes, it’s cruel,” she insisted. “What is his crime to be locked in the dungeon?”
He whirled on her. “Crime? Selling children to slavers! I thought you of all people would agree with that.”
“But there are other ways to punish him for that crime. Make him work with children, teach them to –”
“There is no punishment too great for him. He should be in the dungeon and far worse! You just don’t understand.”
“Then make me understand. Why do you insist on locking him up?”
Damien straightened. He let the darkness wash over him as he called forth the memories. “You want to understand?” He allowed himself to go back, to visit an experience he had locked away inside of him. He was a young child. Gawyn just a year older. “Gawyn was just barely older than young Robert. Maybe five summers, I can't remember. He heard horrible sounds coming from my father's room one night. Gawyn thought he might be in trouble.” Damien stepped back into the shadows of the room, next to the open window. Moonlight washed in, illuminating Aurora sitting on the bed. He couldn't stare at her and remember the image in his mind. He looked out the window. “I woke up to hear my father screaming at Gawyn. I saw him hit Gawyn so hard that he slammed into a chair and actually broke it. That made Father more angry. He went after Gawyn, but I went to help him. I tried to help Gawyn to his feet, but he caught me before I reached him.” Damien barely remembered the blows. It had been a long time ago and only one in a string of beatings. “I told Gawyn to run because I knew that he wouldn't stop with me. I lost consciousness after the second blow.” Damien gazed out over Acquitaine. The beast inside him shifted and his gut twisted at the memory.
“Damien,” Aurora whispered, and stood.
He clenched his jaw, fighting the memory and the beast back into the recesses of his soul where they belonged. “I was lucky to be sold.”
She reached for him, to comfort him, to give him support.
The darkness of the time still engulfed him and he didn’t want her to be a part of it. He didn’t want to touch her with such evil and anger churning inside of him. He stepped away from her.
“Don’t,” she begged. “Don’t shut me out. Let me help.”
He shook his head, unable to talk. He had thought the feelings of the time couldn’t hurt him any longer. But they rose like demons inside of him. He shook his head. He had been weak then. He didn’t want to be weak now. He didn’t want her to see him like this. He turned his back on her, fighting desperately to bury his emotions, to bury the past where it was meant to be. “I can’t forget the past and I can’t heal from it. It’s part of me.” He turned to her. “And I can’t forgive him.” He moved to the bed and grabbed his breeches. He pulled them on.
“Where are you going?” she asked softly.
“To see Gawyn.” He pulled on his boots and tunic before rising and walking to the door. He paused to turn to her. “I don’t want you near him, do you understand?”
Aurora looked down, twisting her hands before her. “He’s my family too, now.”
“No. He isn’t,” Damien insisted, taking a step toward her. A frantic fear fluttered in his chest. “And he will never be. I don’t want him to be. Stay away from him.” He whirled, but then paused. He took a breath and turned back to her. “Promise me. Promise me you’ll stay away from him.”
Aurora lifted troubled eyes to him.
“Promise me,” Damien persisted, resisting every urge he felt to run to her and take her into his arms.
She remained silent.
“Aurora,” Damien said firmly.
She bowed her head. “Fine,” she all but whispered.
Her vow did not relieve him. It was reluctant and forced and he knew it was only a matter of time before she broke it. He whirled and left the room. He knew he had only one choice to keep her safe. To keep her away from his father. To keep her clean of his past.
He would have to get rid of his father.
The flickering torchlight washed into the cell.
Tobias looked up. He squinted his eyes against the sudden bright in his dark gloom.
Booted feet stopped just before him. For a long moment, he stared, blinking against the firelight of the torch. He held his arm up, shielding his eyes, to try to see who stood before him. Finally, he lowered his arm. “Damien?”
“No.” The voice was cold.
Tobias scoffed, recognizing the tone and the owner. “Sent you to finish me, did he? Didn’t have the nerve to do it himself?”
“What do you want?”
Tobias stared at the dirt floor.
“Why are you here?”
“I didn’t know you were with him,” Tobias admitted. “Although I should have known.”
“Why have you come to Acquitaine?”
Tobias shook his head. “It was a mistake. I wanted to see my boy. I was foolish to want to talk to him, foolish to think –”
“Save your lies for someone else.”
Tobias shook his head. “I never thought you would be like this. You were always the quiet one, the one I favored.”
“Favored?” An angry chuckle echoed through the darkness. “I remember slaps. I remember kicks and punches. You have a funny way of remembering how you favored me.”
“It was a hard time for me, boy,” Tobias answered. “Don’t dare judge me. You boys were no angels.”
“We were children. And you were too concerned with where your next drink was coming from.”
“Afte
r that weakling of a mother died and left me alone with the two of you –”
The torch dropped to the floor. Tobias’s shirt was seized and he was hauled to his feet, slammed back against the dungeon wall. Gawyn stuck his face close to his father’s, eyes blazing with hatred. “Don’t talk about her. You hear me? Don’t talk about her like that.”
Tobias studied his son’s face; his eyes were burning with angry loathing, his lips curled in a snarl. “Gawyn,” he gasped. Something twisted in his chest. “My boy.”
Gawyn released him and Tobias slid down the wall.
The torchlight rolled across the floor to just beside Gawyn’s foot. The light cast him in flickering shadows of light and dark as Tobias stared up at him.
“Why have you come to Acquitaine?”
“My boy is getting married,” Tobias whispered.
“What do you want?”
“I want to see him. I want to meet his wife.”
“Why?”
“Can’t a father want simply to see his son?”
“You lost your right to call us sons the day you sold us for a bag of gold.”
Tobias’s lip curled. “Will you do it now? Can you shove that dagger into my stomach now?”
Gawyn bent and picked up the torch. He walked to the door.
“You can’t do it. Because my blood runs through your veins. We are family.”
Gawyn stepped out into the hallway, pulling the cell door closed behind him.
“We are family!”
Damien gazed out the window at the dark forest ringing the outer gates of Acquitaine. He tried to pretend the cut didn’t bother him when Aurora and he had made love earlier that night. But he couldn’t deny it to himself. It was a physical sign of his weakness, a reminder of his inabilities. Roke had often reminded him that complacency made one soft.
He couldn’t afford to be soft. Not with his past hovering so near behind him. The count and countess. His father. He stared out over the sleeping lands. The beast inside him stirred, restless. Damien had thought the monster inside him had gone. Only now did he realize he couldn’t afford for it to disappear. A part of him always needed to be the assassin, on alert, protecting, guarding.
The other part of him needed to be a lord, needed to make wise choices. Like Aurora. She was a great ruler because of her compassion for her people. He never had compassion, not until he met her. He glanced over his shoulder at Aurora sleeping on the bed. She was his treasure; she was his light. He would have been lost without her. Now, he wondered what he would do to keep her.
Damien sat in a chair near the window and pulled his breeches on. He pulled his boots on and donned his tunic. He glanced one last time at Aurora before grabbing his sword belt and headed for the door.
“You have to be perfect.”
Aurora looked around. She knew the voice. But it was distant and unfamiliar somehow.
“I won’t love you if you are not. They won’t love you. He won’t love you.”
A face appeared in the darkness. A beautiful face. A face she only saw in a picture on the wall, in her father’s old solar. The face was still and flat, just like the picture, brown hair combed to a shine, her nose thin, her lips closed in a grimace of disapproval. But it was her eyes Aurora could not turn away from. They looked at her with unhappiness, cold calculation and vast disapproval.
“Mother,” Aurora whispered. Her voice sounded different, younger.
“You think your father loved you? He wanted you to be perfect. And you never were perfect.” The lips on the picture didn’t move; the eyes were cold and unseeing.
Aurora faced the image, her hands folded before her. She was a child, a young woman of twelve.
“Stand straight. Keep your chin up.”
Aurora remembered the commands. Tell her, Aurora mentally screamed. Tell her that father loved you!
“And Damien?”
Complete dread stabbed Aurora’s heart. Her mother didn’t know Damien. She had never met him.
“Oh, but I have met him,” her mother said. “He killed me!”
Anguish gripped Aurora.
“You can never be perfect. You are marrying my killer! He doesn’t love you, either. He will leave you.”
Aurora sat up in her bed, gasping. The room was dark and the visage of her mother still lingered in her mind. She reached for Damien…
…but he was not there. Her hand closed over the empty, cold spot.
Instinctively, she looked at the window. Dim light shone in from outside, but Damien was not there. He had left her. Where was he?
Aurora stood in her father’s solar, staring at the picture of her mother, remembering her dream from the night before. Remembering Damien’s absence. Her mother had been cruel, cold and uncaring toward the villagers and toward her. As much as Aurora tried to think of one moment, she could not remember a time when her mother had looked at her with pride or with acceptance. Or with love. Her mother had not known what love was. It had been her father that had taught her.
And Damien.
She tried to push the doubt aside, but last night had not been the first time Damien had left her bed. Since the Countess Dumas had arrived, it had been two nights. The countess. She was a beautiful woman. And she had… known… Damien before. The image of them together, naked, wrapped in each other’s arms came to her mind.
Maybe she wasn’t enough. Maybe she wasn’t perfect enough.
She remembered her mother’s words from long ago – “Stand up straight. Don’t play with your hair. You’re such a silly, stupid girl.” Never good enough.
The door opened and closed behind her, but she did not move. A heartbeat passed before Damien said softly, “You missed the morning meal.”
Aurora didn’t answer.
“You’re not angry with me, are you?” he asked. “I sent Gawyn to tell you I wouldn’t be able to escort you this morning.”
She turned to him, her stomach clenched tight. “Are you happy here?”
The muted sunlight from the fabric draped window washed over him in a red hue. He scowled. “Happy? Why would you ask that?”
That was not an answer. Grief rose in her throat. “You were free before.”
“Free?” He shook his head. “I was a slave. You know that. I was never free.”
“But… you could come and go as you wished. You weren’t… trapped.”
“Trapped?” He reached for her, placing his hands on her shoulders. “I’m not trapped. Where did you get that idea?”
His palms were warm on her shoulders; she could feel his heat through her clothing. She scanned his handsome face, his square jaw, his aquiline nose, dark eyes. And his lips… lips that had kissed the countess. She turned away from him, to look at her mother’s picture. “Maybe I put too many expectations on you. Too many restrictions.”
“Aurora…” His voice trailed off.
“I want you to be happy. I don’t want you to feel… You’ve worked hard to be free. And you’ve earned it. I don’t want to take that away from you.”
“I’m exactly where I want to be.”
She turned back to him. “But are you happy?”
He touched her cheek gently, sending shivers through her body. “I’m happy here, with you.”
Aurora launched herself into his arms, pressing her cheek to his chest.
“What is it? What’s wrong?” Damien whispered against her hair.
Tears rose in her eyes. “I had a dream…”
Damien’s low rumble of laughter coursed through her body. “I thought you were a more practical woman than to believe in dreams.”
She hugged him tighter. “I don’t want to lose you.”
He stroked her back, kissing the top of her head. “That’s not possible.” He tilted her head up to look into her eyes. “I’m not going anywhere. I’m afraid you are stuck with me.” He lowered his lips to hers.
Stuck with him. Then why did he leave her bedside in the middle of the night? And where did he go?
&n
bsp; Chapter Seven
Damien stared down at the map spread out on the table before him.
“All guards are on double duty. All entrances watched and everyone who enters the castle is questioned,” Captain Rupert reported.
“They must have an invitation to enter,” Gawyn added.
“Good,” Damien murmured, his gaze moving over the map of the castle.
“Are you expecting trouble?”
Damien lifted his gaze to his brother. “It’s better to be prepared. Have you questioned the knight?”
Gawyn nodded. “He knew who you were, that’s for certain. As is usual for his kind, his opinion of you was not very high.”
Damien ignored his brother’s attempt at easing the tension in the room. He just had a bad feeling about this whole affair. He didn’t like crowds to begin with and it felt like the entire damned population of the world was descending on Acquitaine. “Who is his lord?”
Gawyn grimaced. “He wouldn’t say.”
Damien’s brows rose in surprise. “You must be slipping.”
Gawyn shrugged slightly.
“We have men patrolling the borders. If anyone approaches, we will know,” Rupert said proudly.
Damien dropped his gaze to the table again. He took a rolled up piece of parchment and spread it over the other map. He held the second map down with his hands. A castle was in the center and curved lands with landmarks at the borders spread out from there. “Acquitaine is a large land. It might be easy to spot an approaching army, but what of one or two men?” He shook his head. Tremors of trepidation and anxiety shot up his spine.
“M’lord, Acquitaine is safe.”
“It’s not Acquitaine I’m concerned about. Gawyn –”
Gawyn sighed. “I know. Guard duty again.”
“Unless you can get that knight to tell you who his lord is. Who sent him to Acquitaine. And why.”
“I'll use my charm this time.”
“Just get the information.”
It was getting harder and harder to find time to go to the dungeon. Aurora managed it when Damien was preoccupied and Rupert was watching her.
Legends of Medieval Romance: The Complete Angel's Assassin Trilogy Page 29